Affectionate or Obnoxious
by Military Mechanic
Summary: Rex claims he's trying to be affectionate. Weevil claims he's simply being obnoxious. They're supposed to go downtown for the day and, really, Rex doesn't even plan on changing out of his pajamas.


A/N: Because I will die with this ship, that's why.

* * *

"Turn that racket down, Rex." snaps Weevil, letting himself into the other boy's room.

From his spot on the bed, Rex jerks and spins around, at the same time shoving something under his pillow; and Weevil ignores that, because he has no urge to see whatever that is, anyway. The brunnette looks surprised for a moment, then grins.

"Hey, Weevs! What're you doing over here?" he asks, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Like the rest of his bedroom, it is unmade, and the sheets are somewhere on the floor in a corner.

Weevil purses his lips together and crosses his arms over his chest. His blue eyes narrow slightly, focusing in on the stereo that's perched rather dangerously on the top of Rex's dresser.

Rex snorts, but pushes himself off of his bed none the less. "God, shitty taste in music and no manners. I mean, come on, it's my own damn room."

Despite his complaints, he meanders over to his dresser and reaches up, hitting the power button for his stereo. Abruptly, the loud bass of Slayer cuts off, and with it the rest of the music. As far as he's concerned, Weevil has no taste in music. Or much of anything, for that matter.

The feeling is mutual though, and loudly stated when Weevil begins to pick his way across the room. Now, there isn't trash or anything laying about, but Rex is far from a neat person. School books are scattered about the floor, as are several empty cd cases and a half-empty bottle of coke. And clothes. Lots and lots of clothes - most of which, Weevil assumes to be dirty.

"You're the one with no taste, dino-brain. And proper _manners_ mean that you would turn it off anyway, before those vocals shatter my eardrums." counters Weevil; and he gives the bed a distasteful look before sitting down, as if making sure that there isn't abhorrent hidden among the wrinkled bright green sheets.

Rex snorts, and completely ignores his earlier statement. "Manners-schmanners. What're you doing here, anyway?"

As he speaks, he treks back across his room, paying no mind to what his bare feet tred upon. Unlike Weevil, who is dressed and together for the day, Rex still hasn't bothered to change out of his pajama's. The fact that it's nearing one in the evening doesn't matter to him; he's perfectly content in his nightpants, which are light blue and covered in a variaty of small, green dinosaurs. Rex lets himself flop down onto the bed next to Weevil, stretching out on his back.

Weevil stares down at him, one brow arched, and an irritated expression taking over his face. "Yesterday, you said that we were going to go downtown. I should have figured that your measley brain wouldn't let you remember that."

"Maybe I would have remembered if you had picked something less, I dunno, _vague_ to go do!" counters Rex, not moving from his spot. "Besides, it's Saturday, Weeves. Let's just do shit here or something, so I don't have to get dressed."

"You should get dressed anyway." states Weevil, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Rex gives a non-commital grunt, then smirks up at the blue-haired boy. "Come on, Weeves. I ain't getting dressed, and you ain't going anywhere. So relax some."

The last sentence is accompanied by a tug on Weevil's jacket, that really does nothing but make said boy squirm further away from Rex.

"Stop that. I'm not laying down, especially not _here_ of all places." snaps Weevil and, really, what is Rex thinking?

Rex rolls his eyes and scoots around on the bed, so he's still stretched out next to his friend. "C'mon, Weeves. Stop being so damn uptight all the time. I'm just trying to be affectionate."

A pause, and another pointed frown in Rex's direction. "You aren't being affectionate, you're being obnoxious. And I told you yesterday, I have to be across town this evening."

"Yeah, well that's later!" counters Rex, and for once he's determined not to just give in and get dressed, like he normally does. So he slides an arm up and tugs Weevil down, so that the other boy is on his back too. "Now, come to raptor!"

"S-stop that!" yelps Weevil. Rex is snickering at him like he finds the whole thing funny, and he gets the biggest urge to just reach over and punch the other duelist. Instead, face still screwed into something that was partially mad, partially annoyed, he lets himself sink into the position that Rex pulled him into; head resting on one of Rex's arms, and his own arms crossed over his chest.

And, while Rex could have made fifty different smart-ass comments there, instead he lets out a half-forced yawn and scooches a bit closer to Weevil.

"We'll do shit later." he mutters, slinging his free arm over Weevil's chest and closing his eyes. "Now go the fuck to sleep."


End file.
